29 January 2014

His existence was distanced from everyone else

One day, John and I will be here - or somewhere similar - and there won't be anyone to supervise while they brush their teeth. No one to tuck in. A little voice won't cheekily appear (long before it's owner) to ask for a glass of water, or to register some other complaint. (No, we can't phone Heathrow and make them stop the aeroplanes).

And if there isn't that, there won't be the moment of stillness after. The slowing of the flat. The gentle tidying up and putting away that currently happens. Because that stillness, that silence, will be here all the time. (almost.)

There won't be us, on the sofa (when we have one), ears pricking up just as much as the dogs' ever do, when there's a sound which might be the thump of small feet swinging out of bed and onto the floor.

The TV volume won't be down low. Our bedroom door may not be closed. I can assure you, I won't be sleeping in shorts!

And it will be a new chapter in our lives - a welcome one. But this current chapter will be done, and I know we'll both look back at it longingly, too.

Days like today, when I'm at home, I get little flash-forwards, to that time. Because from 9-3(roughly speaking), it is the two of us, and the flat does have that stillness. Even worse, when I've been here alone, for whatever reason, when the door closes solidly as John leaves for school with Sherlock. And the silence (such as London's silence is), is heavy around me. I don't like it, when it's like that.

It's the time - the only time, now - when I feel like I don't belong here. Like a visitor in someone else's house. For many reasons, all of them past, not present.

I very much hope, though, that that future-silence which is creeping up on us, is still broken, by Mycroft (door closed carefully, latch checked, coat hung, shoes removed WITH laces undone) and Sherlock (Door pushed, coat thrown, shoes possibly kicked off, laces firmly fastened.)

As you can probably guess, I've been thinking a lot today.

25 January 2014

The skipper lay with his nob in gore

So, here we are again. All together :)

I'd intended to cook Mycroft a nice dinner, to celebrate his finishing his exams and being back with us.

But work sort of put the kybosh on that plan. And instead I was eating a semi-warm wrap at ten thousand feet, or however high planes fligh. Or fly. Spelling....

Anyway, he cooked for me/all of us, instead. Which was lovely. Ably abetted by John.

My day really wasn't that bad. The bloke had given himself up - so he wasn't that bothered about being escorted 'home'. Wasn't angry or anything. He...well, he didn't seem that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Averagley homophobic...thought he was God's gift, so immediately found it odd that I didn't fancy him. Slightly amusing, trying to convince everyone he was the officer and I was the prisoner. Sadly he didn't have a warrant card...

Sherlock was very pleased to see me home - I mean, they all were. But Sherlock wanted to ask me a million questions. Including 'If he was bad, you should have just thrown him out of the plane'.

John didn't sleep much the night before - as you've all seen, so he was looking a bit zombie-fied by the time we went to bed. But I was inexplicably awake. Which has meant I've been a zombie today. But that was fine, as we headed out, and it was a lovely day. We went along the river.

Saw a man with an Eagle.

(That is a random man. The man with the eagle wasn't wearing a suit...)

Got a boat way out to North Greenwich, just because we could. Sherlock likes seeing the police boats (Why don't you have a boat?) and, on the way back, we stopped at the Maritime Museum, because we hadn't been there before.

Mycroft liked the incredibly old, incredibly detailed models the best, and the strange star-map...thing, below. Sherlock liked the swords. And blunderbus, and guns which fired 7 bullets at once...

Once we were done, and had sheltered from a thunderstorm by stopping for coffee, we headed home. Where I promptly fell asleep. Which means I'm awake now... the cycle continues.

Mycroft wants to find a job for the summer. John and I are both very much in favour of this, but it's not an easy economic climate to find a first job. Especially when it'll only be for the summer...

He's pondered just going for a shop job - as in supermarket. He's thought about maybe seeing if a computer/IT place might take him on as additional technical help for customers (John and I will lay bets on how long before he goes on a killing spree amongst unfortunate technically illiterate folks...). I suggested being a waiter...or asking if he could help in a coffee shop (providing I get family discount.) Not a chain one, but a little indy nice one. Or a bakery.

Anyway, he's thinking. I'm sure he'll find something.

20 January 2014

But If This Ever Changing World In Which We're Living, Makes You Give In And Cry

Worked late. Wanted to get on and interview a suspect we'd found inconveniently late on in the shift.

Came home to find the flat at DefCon1, with some sort of cold war of glaring going on.

Apparently Sherlock climbed on the back of the sofa, the sofa decided that was above and beyond it's call of duty...one large crunch later and Sherlock was on the floor, and the sofa is...well...not exactly sofa-shaped any more.

This is partly because Sherlock is no longer a little waif. He's a strapping young lad. And partly because the sofa is probably older than him.

Up side, we're getting a new sofa... downside, we currently don't have one.

Anyway, Sherlock blamed the sofa, John blamed Sherlock, the sofa remained silent, I blamed...me, probably, and told Sherlock he wouldn't be watching any more programme likes the one last night, if he can't behave the next day. So he decided he blamed me too. And a degu (won't say which one), for 'probably eating some of the sofa and making it weaker'. And Mycroft, for sitting on the sofa...ever.

Now Sherlock is sulkily in bed. And I am attempting to massage the frown creases from John's forehead.

What else... Mycroft is home at the weekend. We may or may not own a sofa by then... more room for everyone, if not? But most of us will have to sit on the floor...

Work is...work. Some good, some bad. I have to go on a firearms refresher, which is...well, inevitable.  Given I've barely had to use my skills, it's not too bad, I suppose. It's come in handy, so can't complain.

Good news is, my ankle survived a run...well...slow jog, the other night. As long as I'm careful, it seems fine. And don't do any silly sudden direction changes or anything.

Oh, and Sherlock's volunteered us to clean the pond up...which is kind of him... and get it ready for all the critters to turn up in the spring.

Right...I'm going to....not sit on the sofa.

15 January 2014

I have waited for the rain to come

Quiet, isn't it?

I haven't really been in the mood. For...anything, to be honest.

Had a very sad case to deal with, which is all questions and few answers. Had to talk to the family, who are 7000 miles away. They had questions I didn't have answers to. I had questions they didn't have answers to. And working through a translator makes it all the more difficult to understand each other. Cultural differences, too, add to confusion.

I'm trying to help arrange them to have the bodies sent home, but it's difficult, and expensive. But we've managed it before, via charities and governments and all that.

Anyway, off today. Did some work on the bike with John. He's good - surgeon's hands ;)

Had to have a ride too, obviously, can't lube a cold chain. Comment on that as you will.

Then had to go and see Sherlock, and get out the crayons. It's nice, watching the kids all stuck in to their work. Wish I could go more often.

Here's the planet John and I thought we'd found....which isn't a planet, Mycroft informs us, but an eclipsing binary. Well, we got excited for a bit ;)

Um...soo... anyone got any questions? Things they want to talk about? Or have we all got the January blues?

11 January 2014

And it's further to fall down, 'Cause you fly so high

Had a lovely day today.

We got up to clear skies and sunshine, so John and I had a gentle stroll in the park, and Sherlock took his bike. I wanted to jog, but John gave me one of those 'are you actually stupid?' looks, and gave his medical opinion that my ankle wasn't ready for it.

Which it isn't. But I probably wouldn't have accepted that until I'd tried and failed ;)

Anyway, strolling was fine. Sherlock was manic, it was nice.

After lunch we went for a swim, and Sherlock practised his underwater swimming. He can go quite a long way - between five and ten metres, on a good attempt. I'm trying to get back to being able to do a length. Smoking stopped all that, but I can get about 20 metres now (although not right now, breaststroke kick is something my ankle doesn't enjoy much.)

John did a bit of 'serious' swimming, but was then roped in to doing diving with Sherlock :)

Afterward I need coffee and Sherlock needed food. And, apparently, a huge hot chocolate with sprinkles and marshmallows and cream. And then when we got home he needed a chocolate cake...

So, all in all, a lovely day.

Quite a contrast from yesterday, which was ups and downs. Some charges brought, which made me happy. And a crime scene which just... well, very hard to take in. Nothing prepares you for some of them. I mean, not what you see, but thinking about what's led to it. Thinking about what people have gone through, to lead to the moment you're there. What their last moments must have been like. What was going on in their minds. Sometimes it makes you wonder about the world we live in. How someone can feel that there really is nothing else left for them to do...but that. I don't know, makes you sad for them, for society, for futures lost.

And I think I'll be back at work tomorrow...which Sherlock doesn't appreciate. But I will definitely appreciate having some time off with John later in the week.

Have a picture which has been sent around the office. Sums up the job perfectly.

Oh, and I am doing a seminar. On the hidden world of murder etc. amongst the 'invisible population' - people who've been trafficked, who are held in slavery, or who are otherwise not officially known about within our population.

5 January 2014

Love, reign o'er me, Rain on me, rain on me

Hello 2014.

Today is the last day of the holidays.

I have paperwork to do, and one meeting to go to tomorrow, because...God, it makes me feel horribly, horribly guilty...but I don't want to go to work. I want to be at home with them. It always feels like the time goes so fast. So yeah, staying at home, mainly.

It's 2 years since I made a resolution to get a better work/life balance... not sure I've done it, but...well, I'm not unmotivated.

The boys have made a few million biscuits, some for us, some for Mycroft to take with him. And Mycroft has begun to sort out his things. Mainly lots and lots of text books for school.

My ankle is getting better - I can get about the flat okay, I just have to be careful.

I'm not generally particularly careful. And when I swear Sherlock's bat ears always hear.

Our calendar informs us that Sherlock will be having his school photos taken this week. He is pondering having his hair cut. I'm not sure he will - I think he should wait until it's warmer! Anyway, don't tell him, but he looks cute when he's glaring out from under his curls. Quite a contrast to Mycroft, who looks very dapper.

What else...well, it's still raining. We're going to start building an ark. Maybe on the allotment, after Reg growled at us for not digging it over yet. Or getting any seeds in the cold frames. And generally being fairweather allotmenteers who have gone into hibernation over winter.

Of course, because it currently looks like the Somme, Sherlock wants to dive headfirst into it and roll about. And so would the dogs. In fact, I might join them, if it's between that or digging it all up...

And now this...